Comfort
by Princess of Random
Summary: complete one-shot, Ginny's 5th year and she unexpectedly finds herself giving comfort to the most unlikely person


diclaimer: Harry Potter and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and publishing companies and whoever else owns them. I'm just barrowing for a short story.  


authors notes: Though I've read lot's of Harry Potter fics, this is my first venture into actually writing one. It's a one-shot that I might write one or two sequal's to. I love reviews Let me know what you think, whether you like or or don't, if you don't please tell me why so I can improve my writing. Pointless flamed and complaints will be used at the next bar-b-que.  


random rant: I'm so happy I found insperation to write again  


random quote: "Where do you come from, planet loser?"  "As opposed to planet look at me, look at me!"     


                        -10 Things I Hate About You  


I guess coincidence would be a bad choice in words when I say, you and Harry discovered me at nearly the same time. I was there for Harry when I saw him again after the summer started. We were friends for most of my fifth year. I think we all noticed the difference in you when we came back that year. You were withdrawn, defeated. I think that for most of that year you and Harry both had my sympathy, though at that point I never would have gotten close enough to you to offer friendship. It was at the end of that year that I caught you sending strange looks my way, that fled to the back of my mind when Harry and I became more than friends. That summer at the Burrow Harry and I grew to be very close and I knew that the upcoming year, whatever Voldemort threw our way, I would be there to be his sliver lining. Even when we heard that the deatheaters had once again escaped. That changed when we arrived at Hogwarts and I saw you again, or maybe this was the first time I'd really seen you. Sometimes I think it might have been the first time you had seen yourself. Since having heard that your father had escaped Azkaban we had all come back expecting you to be the same way you were before, we couldn't have been more wrong. If anything you seemed to have retreated even further into yourself. You wouldn't let anyone near you, not even those two gorillas you called friends. So that night when I was leaving my private little practice session at the quidditch pitch I nearly jumped out of my skin to hear your voice.

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are Weasley?"

You must have seen the befuddlement on my face because you just shook your head and turned towards the pitch. I had the feeling that this moment, my decision whether to let you walk away or not was important, more important than I could know just then. "Wait!" You paused but didn't turn around so I walked a few feet closer to you. "What do you mean?" I asked to your back.

You didn't answer immediately waiting before you turned to look at me out of the corner of your eye. "Do you know what you have," you waved your hand vaguely back towards the castle. "Waiting for you in your Gryffindor tower?"

I looked at you for a moment trying to decide if you meant for me to answer the question the way it sounded; your shadowy profile offering me little information to determine whether you were sincere. I shrugged lightly, "A boyfriend you hate and a brother you despise."

You shook your head as though trying to clear your thoughts. "Forget it." You said. You sounded so exhausted, like you had just been told you had one year to live yet you wanted to die tomorrow. No one could fake sounding that way and it made me stop.

I jogged to catch up to you, "Malfoy wait." You didn't even slow down this time, so I reached for your arm and pulled you to a stop. "What are you really trying to say, Draco?" I had to pause before I could get the unfamiliar passed my lips. Hearing your given name seemed to prove to you that I sincerely wanted to know.

You turned and looked at me for a moment, with the strangest expression on your face made all the more alien because you wore it. "All these years." You mumbled to yourself before you answered me. "You're poor, you barely fit your family in your shabby little house, tattered robes, second hand books-" you trailed off. Your words were so insulting but your tone so envious, I wasn't sure how to respond but then you continued and I didn't have to. "I come from a rich family with a house so large I don't think I've even bothered to look at all the rooms, everything new, privileges I never had to share with siblings." You shook your head again looking away from me. "I never knew you had so much more than I did." You said the last so quietly I never would have heard you if there had been any other background noise. To this day I'm not sure you actually meant for me to hear such an admonition from you.

I was sure I knew what your point was but I still needed to hear you say it. "The only things I have that you don't are six older guard dog brothers."

You glanced my way and I saw a small amount of amusement and a not so small amount of defeated sadness. "You have six older guard dogs and two parents who care about you. People who actually know what love is." Bitterness seeped into your voice at the last, and underneath it pain. I knew you referred mostly to your father but I knew nothing of the woman who birthed you.

"Your mother?" I'll never forget what you did next, after a moments pause, dropping your cloak then lifting your shirt as you turned. It seemed the next few moments went in slow motion as another inch of your skin was revealed and the horrid scars slashing across your pale flesh became visible. My breath caught in my lungs and I could not move. I must have stared for an eternity before I realized that I had lifted my hand as though to touch the scars. I froze mid motion and brought my hand back to my side just before you turned to me again.

"My mother hasn't been herself in a long time."

Something in your voice made me stare you straight in the eye and realization hit me like lightening. "Imperio." I breathed.

"Since I was born." You said it so quietly, almost as though you were afraid that if you said it out loud it would become more real.

The revelation brought tears to my eyes. The only one who would dare put Lucius Malfoys wife under the imperious curse was Lucius Malfoy himself. Because of your father you never really knew your mother.

"Don't Weasley. Don't you dare cry! I do not want your pity." You ordered, the pomp from your previous years resurfacing.

When the tears began falling from my eyes I had to hold onto your arm to make sure you wouldn't leave. I shook my head trying to convey that was not what I thought while I was trying to think of a way to explain. "It's not pity. It's compassion."

You shrugged out of my grip. "There's no such thing." You said as tried walking away.

I moved in front of you blocking your way and cradled your face in my hands ignoring your look of incredulity. "Then why am I still here trying to convince you that life is worth living?"

I remember the look in your eyes was so afraid, afraid to hope; and then you wrapped your hands around my wrist as though to remove them. "Turn around and go back to your tower Weasley. Pretend we never had this conversation, then maybe in the morning you wont feel so bad."

You turned to leave and I was so afraid it would be the last time anyone would see you. "Why is your mother still alive?" It was the only thing I could think of to keep you here.

You turned around with a confused look on you face. "What difference does it make?"

"What will happen if someday the curse on your mother is broken and you're not here?" I held you in place with that question. I remember that night offering you comfort, not from a Gryffindor or from a Weasley but from one human being to another. We made our way into the Castle and I lead you to the room of requirement where you had caught members of the DA two years ago. Neither of us are entirely sure what may happen but I had every intention of you living through the night without tossing yourself off of one of the professors boxes at the pitch.

We talked, for what must have been hours, about so many inconsequential things. I don't even think I can remember half of them. And then you asked me what it's like, to love. That earnest look in your eyes, the childlike ignorance about something that for me has just always been there, it nearly broke me to see. I was at a loss, how do I explain something that for me was as simple as breathing. You looked at me expectantly, like a child waiting to be told the mystery of the universe. I did the only thing I could think of. I took your face in my hands and looked into your eyes in a way I don't think I've ever looked at Harry, and slowly, so slowly I brought our faces together until our lips touched. I traced your face with my hands and caressed your lips with mine I think I even heard you sigh. Hesitatingly you wrapped your arms around me and pulled me closer, I think you were afraid I would pull away and make a joke of you. When you were sure I wouldn't pull away you leaned into me and I lay back onto the pillow-laden floor.

You looked down at me amazed. "Why?"

I reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your eye as I contemplated the best way to answer. "I can't undo what your father has spent your life trying to turn you into, but I can show you that isn't all there is." You looked at my hand as you laced your fingers through mine, your hands calloused from quidditch, but I knew if not for that your hands would be as polished as your appearance. Everything that night was for you, to show you what could be. I hoped to, and I think I accomplished, giving you a glimpse of what life you could have had, the peace that your father would never allow. The night passed with bittersweet kisses and always your eyes boring into me. Your hands clasping mine tightly above my head began to roam my body as though you were trying to memorize every contour of my body. You treasured me as though I was the most valuable thing in the world. I had brief thoughts of what Harry and my brother would say, but I pushed them aside not wanting to think about what this would do to them. I found something with you that night that I never let myself think about except when I'm alone in the darkness of my thoughts. I lay there with you that night tracing abstract patterns across you skin and you doing the same to me.

You didn't say a word to me when you woke me before the sun even peaked over the horizon, only watching as I dressed in the robes I wore the night before. I looked into your eyes one last time with a silent farewell then turned to leave. I was reaching for the door handle when I felt you arms wrap around me one last time as you whispered in my ear. "Thank you." I felt you drop something into the pocket of my robe before you said, "I'll have something to go to sleep to in the world out there." You paused before you finished, "Don't look back." With that you let me go.

That morning in the Great Hall you had a peaceful look like it didn't matter what torment this life threw at you because death would only be peace. I quickly averted my eyes and found Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table, I took my place next to him across from Ron and Hermione.

"Morning love." Harry said to me before he kissed the crown of my head. "Sleep well?"

"Like a dream." I replied. I would not look back; Harry would never know that I held a part of you that I would treasure, though I was never really sure what you had given of yourself. The ring that you placed in my pocket that night stayed locked away I haven't worn it or even taken it out. You changed after that; subtly at first taking control of Slytherin again though you never harassed us again. It wasn't until much later that I realized why. I still pray to the Powers That Be to grant you and your mother peace.

  



End file.
